


Seductions

by facetofcathy



Series: 2008 Kink Bingo Blackout [7]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, Community: kink_bingo, Flogging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-17
Updated: 2008-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 17:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetofcathy/pseuds/facetofcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's feeling a bit skittish, Rodney gets creative.  Ronon is definitely not skittish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seductions

Finding the perfect room was easy.  Rodney looked through the first year exploration reports for the most structurally sound towers close to the gateroom, found some likely prospects near to multiple transporters and did some reconnoitring late one night.  It was a matter of minutes to adjust the environmental controls to a nice warm temperature and add some security to the door lock of the room he picked out.  He timed his journey from the room to the control room and the labs, and then repeated the test with his own quarters as the start point.  He had the whole thing done up in a nice graph when he realized he'd need to repeat the experiment with John's quarters as the start point.  While he was at it, he repeated it again starting from Ronon's door and tried not to think about why he'd done that.  He had the perfect place for he and John to play in, now he just had to convince John.

***

Rodney was busy waiting for a simulation to finish, which meant he really wasn't busy at all.  The door swished open and Ronon stalked in.  Rodney looked up from his futile musings over Radek's latest equations and noticed that it was dark outside, the lab was empty, and his back was killing him.  Ronon stopped to lock the door, pulled up a stool tight against Rodney's knees, and mounted the stool with a swinging leg, landing with his knees pressing against the outside of Rodney's.  Rodney opened his mouth to speak and caught the briefest glimpse of Ronon's grin before hands were tight on his face, and Ronon's tongue was in his mouth.

Rodney's mind gibbered a thousand silent thoughts while his mouth happily opened wider and even more happily got tongue fucked.  Even Ronon had to stop to breathe occasionally, and Rodney was ready.  "-in no way can I do this.  You know that and it's-."  The next time Ronon let him up for air, he stroked his thumb along Rodney's throat and gazed at him calmly.  Rodney made a vowel sound, and Ronon had him again.  The third time Ronon let him speak, he took a deep breath and said very firmly, "No.  I have a good thing with John and just, no.  Sorry." 

Ronon grinned at him, unperturbed and said, "You'll change your mind."  He pushed back and off the stool and strode out the door.  Rodney pressed the heel of his hand to his aching, aching cock and watched him go.

***

Rodney kidnapped John after supper and took him to the room.  He'd had time to clean it up, stock the bathroom and the nightstand, and shift some furniture around.  He had his graph handy.  John wandered around with his hands stuffed in his pockets.  Rodney had decided to wait on instituting the no-shoes rule.

John did pause and stare at the extravagantly large bed.  "I think we should cool it for a while," John said.  "We've been getting carried away; we need to get our priorities right."

Rodney tried to feel surprised, but he'd known this was coming.  Ever since they'd come back from a mission where a little fun had gotten not fun at all when John had unthinkingly got out his knife, John had been brittle and distant and stupidly guilty.  "The world - ha, galaxy won't end because we're having kinky sex in a comfortable bed."

"I don't want to argue about this," John said and turned to the door, not meeting his eyes.

"Just this once, I don't care what you want," Rodney said and then to the empty room, "You'll change your mind."

***

Rodney avoided dealing with the most awkward team movie night in memory by the simple expedient of falling asleep a half hour in.  He'd insisted they watch the movie in his cramped and uncomfortable quarters in an effort to make a point with John.  John didn't acknowledge the point or anything else Rodney said.  Teyla looked at them with a confused expression, and Ronon commented on how nice it was to hear the whole movie for a change.  Ronon had chosen to sit on the floor beside Rodney's bed, so Rodney took advantage of his position to kick him in the head.

Rodney woke in near darkness.  He could feel someone's hand on his bare foot.  Now that was odd, because Rodney rarely took his socks off in his quarters.  The hand was replaced with lips and then teeth.  Rodney yelped in surprise.

Ronon's laugh floated up to him.  Rodney snatched his foot away.  Ronon laughed again and then loomed up in the gloom, only to descend again to blanket Rodney where he lay sprawled on the bed.  Ronon rested up on his elbows and watched Rodney's face.  Rodney tried to ignore what was pressing into his crotch in favour of getting his mouth to work.  "You're still here."

"Yeah," Ronon said.  "Figured you had to wake up again eventually." 

"I can't Ronon, I told you that, and I meant it.  Seriously, you have no idea how hard this is to say, but no."

"I'm not asking you to fuck me McKay."

"Really," Rodney said with all due scorn.

"Yeah, really.  If you don't want to, that's cool.  I just like kissing you.  Thought we could do that for a while."  Ronon bent his head, but Rodney got a hand up to hold him at bay.

"Really, just make out for a while.  And then what?  Walk away horny and frustrated?  You have that much self control?"

"I've got that much self control.  I also know how to use my own hand," Ronon stated with certainty.

Rodney was about to explain that he definitely didn't have that kind of control when Ronon grabbed his restraining hand, pinned it to the bed over his head, and kissed him.  Since this wasn't the first time or even the second time that they'd done this, Ronon knew just how to shut Rodney's brain down.  Rodney could only moan when Ronon left his mouth alone long enough to bite along his neck with sharp nips of teeth.  He was grinding mindlessly up into Ronon with one hand splayed against his back while the other remained pinned in Ronon's grasp above their heads.  Ronon already knew him well enough to know the effect that would have. 

Rodney was coming apart, panting and gasping and clearly not in control of anything, when Ronon lifted off of him with an animalistic growl and staggered to the door.  "Jesus, Ronon, what the fuck?" 

"Told you I had self control."  Ronon paused at the door to adjust himself.

"But-"

"They're your rules, McKay."  Ronon was out the door before he could answer. 

***

John sighed as he entered his quarters.  He felt unsettled, itchy, well bitchy really.  He threw himself down on the bed knowing he looked like a sulky teenager and failing to care.  Rodney had tracked him down in his office before breakfast and told him in very clear terms exactly what he wanted to do in that room he'd found.  What he wanted John to do to him.  He'd also expressed his opinion that John was being stupid, moronic, girlishly skittish and idiotic.  He'd told John in dire tones that cooling it was not something he was interested in, so John needed to smarten up.  Major Lorne had shown up bearing coffee, or John would have had to listen to more.  As it happened, he'd successfully avoided Rodney for the rest of the day.  A day capped off with Ronon shooting him mysterious looks of disdain all during dinner.

John banged his head back onto the pillow and heard a crinkle of paper.  He sighed again, a little harder and sat up and fished out, not the note he was expecting, but a hefty clutch of graph paper stapled together in one corner.  John idly leafed through it, squinting at Rodney's tiny handwriting, until he gave in and thought the lights brighter.  There were precise measured drawings and pages of closely hand-written text illuminated with highlighter and red sharpie circles.  One page was a detailed map of a certain residential tower that no one else used bearing the title, 'In case you get lost looking for the room.' 

John sighed again and turned to the beginning to read.  The drawings were of a restraint system fixed to a wall.  John shuddered a little and turned the page.  The text was a copy, transcribed from memory according to the footnote, of a website essay on the techniques of flogging.  John read with growing bemusement as the author laid out clear and concise instructions for the novice top.  He read through the introduction, the disclaimer, the safety tips, and the instructions on how to stand.  He got to the part on how to swing the flogger, and the instructions on how to pull up on the stroke and not follow through included the imprecation, 'it's not golf,' outlined in three concentric red ovals.  John set the pages aside and held his head until the urge to laugh hysterically passed. 

He picked up the missive again and started reading.  The section on parts of the body to concentrate on was accompanied by a startlingly competent drawing of the back view of a broad-shouldered man.  John decided the ass wasn't lush enough, but otherwise it was a very good likeness.  The description of landing blows, 'light and stinging,' was underlined four times, on the upper back, the lower ass cheeks and the upper thighs filled John's mind with images that he couldn't banish.  The last page was five words, 'You know you want to.'  John tucked the folded pages into the back cover of War and Peace and tried to sleep.

***

"You know you want to," Ronon said in Rodney's ear.  Ronon had found him again working late in the lab.  He'd slid up behind Rodney and snaked an arm around his waist, pulling Rodney up straight and tight to his chest. 

"Yes, yes.  I never said I didn't," Rodney said.  "I can't.  I - I just can't."

"Have you asked him?"

"No," Rodney almost shouted, "No.  Now's not the time.  I don't think - just now's not the time."

"Okay, I get that.  But you can't fight against who you are, what you want."

"Maybe," Rodney said, already missing the warmth of Ronon's body as he slipped back out the door.

***

John stood on the balcony nearest his quarters and watched the clouds scud across the moons.  The cool metal railing under his hands mocked his desire to feel warm skin over firm flesh.  He hadn't seen Rodney for more than a minute since he'd found the flogging manifesto in his pillow the night before.  He'd read through the whole thing twice more.  In fact, he'd come out onto this balcony to keep himself from jerking off imagining what it would feel like to do exactly what Rodney wanted him to do.

John walked down the corridor past his quarters and stepped into the transporter.  He passed two marines and a biologist on the way and nodded polite greetings to them all.  The transporter opened into a dark corridor.  John left the lights off and made the short walk to his destination by moonlight.  The door took longer than usual to open.  When it did, he stepped into warmth with soft lights glowing and music playing from somewhere.  Rodney had been tinkering some more. 

"Shoes off at the door, that's going to be the only rule," Rodney said.

John pulled off his boots and padded barefoot over to the bed.  Rodney was sprawled out face down, naked, head pillowed on his arms.  John sat on the bed and then bent to place a kiss on the round swell of Rodney's ass. 

"A smart man told me that fighting against who you are and what you want doesn't work out so well," Rodney said quietly.

"Yeah, who was that?" John looked out the window at the lowest moon, red and full and dipping into the ocean.

"Doesn't matter right now.  The point is valid.  Never did me any good in the past."

John flashed on images of Nancy and every other woman he'd never been able to be himself with.  John pulled his shirt off and stood to strip out of his pants as well.  He settled on the bed half on top of Rodney and pressed his mouth to the back of Rodney's neck.  "No, nor me," he said and bit the skin under his lips hard enough to bruise.

***

Rodney had given him another day to get his head together and then told him to meet him in their room at 9:30.  At 21:35, John was sitting on the bed, boots off and fingering the flogger Rodney had made out of strips of Ancient not-quite-rubber conduit insulation.  The wall beyond the bed had two rings made out of what looked like iron attached very firmly to the wall by no means John could discern.  Attached to the rings by lengths of unbreakable cord were two buckled and padded leather wrist restraints.  A flash of light caught John's eye, and he watched the door control, one unlike any other in the city, flash to solid green before the door slid open.

Rodney toed his shoes off as soon as he was inside the door.  He kept going, leaving a trail of clothes behind him on his route to the bed.  "I didn't create this place to spend time here with my clothes on," he said, pinching John's tee shirt between his fingers and tugging on it. 

"I don't know, Rodney.  Maybe I want to stay dressed for this.  Keep that sense of control and all."

"Yeah, right.  Even your pants aren't baggy enough to make that comfortable."

"Fine, fine."  John stood and stripped and folded his clothes neatly.  "So, Rodney," John took a breath and his voice dropped half an octave. "Up against the wall."

Rodney grinned at him from where he had flopped on the bed and then launched himself up and across the room.  There was no doubting his enthusiasm.  Rodney assumed the position against the wall and should have looked absurd doing it, except that ass never looked absurd when it was front and centre.  John slid up behind him and ran an appreciative hand along the rounder curves and hard planes of Rodney's back.  John slowly buckled the restraints around Rodney's thick wrists and then softly kissed the bruise on the back of his neck.  Rodney arched up into the touch of John's lips and made a low humming sound of enjoyment and approval.

John backed off and hefted the flogger experimentally.  Rodney had used some sort of weighted plastic for the handle; it balanced in his hand perfectly.  John swung a few silent strokes in the air, letting the whiff of breeze generated by the motion tease over Rodney's skin.  He was gratified to see Rodney jerk a little at the sensation.  John let the first stroke touch Rodney's left shoulder.  He kept the force light, intending the impact to tickle rather than sting.  Rodney jerked slightly under the impact anyway.  John landed a few more similar strokes, watching out for the wrapping effect of the tails if he didn't pull his stroke just right.  He tried a few more experimental moves.  This was just physics after all, vectors and acceleration, forces and motion; nothing he couldn't figure out.  John let his arm snap with a little more authority, and the tails landed perfectly with a stinging snap on Rodney's right shoulder.  Rodney let out the sharp little yelp John was hoping for, and like any good scientist, John sought a repeat of his results.

He landed the stinging sharp blows on all the approved areas of Rodney's back and the round globes of his ass and the tight wide tops of his thighs.  Rodney's yelps had eroded to a long moaning accompaniment that sharpened up whenever John landed a harder than average shot.  John's body was warm, sweat blooming on his groin and his back.  He had not expected this to be so physical.  He could, if he chose, use his whole body on each swing.  His arm muscles were loose and warm, and his back felt stretched and flexible.  John pulled a stroke to the barest caress on Rodney's ass and stepped closer so he could replace the flogger's touch with the touch of his hand.  "Rodney," he said, voice husky and liquid with lust, "I had no idea this would be so much fun."  He slapped his hand over the pink skin of Rodney's ass and laughed when Rodney yelped at him.

"That'll teach you," Rodney slurred at him.  "Should always listen to me."

John laughed loud enough to cover his movements as he switched the flogger for the leather stop he'd borrowed from Ronon.  John was proud of himself for getting the thing without raising any suspicions.  He'd leaned in Ronon's doorway asking to borrow his knife sharpening kit in the most casual of voices.  Ronon had got it for him without raising a brow.  John stepped back into position and asked politely, "Ready for more?"

Rodney grunted a word of permission and braced himself against the wall, letting his head hang down.

John swung and landed the thick and flexible leather in a hard snap against Rodney's ass.  Rodney shouted out a curse and turned around as far as the restraints would let him.  John grinned wickedly at him and slapped the leather against his palm.  "Up against the wall, buddy."

Rodney rolled his eyes, called him a bastard, and returned to his previous position.  John landed a rapid series of hard stinging slaps with the leather.  He stopped only to watch the deepening flush colour Rodney's ass before he let fly with another series of hits.  Rodney was moaning, almost yelling and starting to wriggle and writhe under the blows.  John slapped him hard, backhand then forehand, left cheek, then right.  Rodney shouted and yelped on each blow. 

John threw the strop to the floor and surged up behind Rodney, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back against his chest.  "Last time you're in charge of tactics," he said huskily.  "If I'd been thinking I'd have put a plug in your ass before we started, and then I'd be fucking you right now."

Rodney laughed shakily.  "Up against the wall, in approved military fashion?"

"Oh yeah."

"So what's stopping you?  Not enough self control to hold out through a little prep?"

John growled in his ear and pinched his nipples hard.  "Back against the wall, Rodney."  John gave him a little shove and threw himself across the bed to reach the nightstand and the lube.  He had his fingers slick before he was back on his feet.  He turned around, and Rodney was back in position, head hanging down and breathing hard.  His ass was gloriously pink, shading to red in places.  John pushed in one finger and listened to Rodney groan at the intrusion for a minute before he added another.  He fucked Rodney with his hand, hard and fast, and Rodney gave him his whole repertoire of moans.  John pulled out and dove back in with three fingers.  He wasn't waiting any longer.  He pulled out, slicked him self up and grabbed Rodney's hips and pressed his cock against Rodney's ass.  "Push back," John ordered him.

Rodney groaned and pressed back. 

"Come on, Rodney.  Take me in.  Fuck yourself on my cock.  You know you want it."

"Yes, yes.  Please, yes." 

Rodney pushed back, taking John in deep with a low moan, and then John had to brace himself as Rodney pulled away again.  John let Rodney fuck himself slow and deep until he was panting with the effort not to move.  "You want it don't you?"

"God, yes."

"Tell me.  Beg me."

"Please John, please.  Fuck me.  I want it. Please."  Rodney's arms were shaking, and his voice was thready and high.

John rubbed his hands over the hot tight skin of Rodney's ass.  "Brace yoursel,f Rodney, I'm going to fuck you so hard."  John suited action to words, digging in to Rodney's hips with a bruising grip.  He snapped his hips forward sinking himself balls deep and pulling back to pound in again and again.  Rodney was moaning continuously, the way he did when he was having a very good time.  John's whole body was hot, blooming with sweat, and his muscles were singing.  He felt so alive and so free.  He slowed enough to reach around and grab Rodney's hard leaking cock and stroked a few times.  "Do you think you can paint the wall in the approved military fashion?" he said right into Rodney's ear and then bit the lobe nice and hard. 

Rodney gave it his best shot, hitting the wall with a couple of stripes of come.  John pounded into him a few more times, and then was coming himself with a loud shout he was absolutely sure no one else could hear.  Rodney's arms were shaking and his legs had a wobble going on, but John was still standing only by virtue of his grip on Rodney's hips.  John yanked Rodney upright by sheer force of will and fumbled off the restraints.  He got them both headed for the bed in a controlled stumble, and they landed in a heap.  Rodney grunted and then pulled the flogger out from under his ass and flung it away. 

"Only thing this place needs is a body slave to fetch some towels and about a gallon of water," John said.

"One thing I've never had the desire to be is anyone's slave," Rodney answered him.


End file.
